Heaven Can Wait But Shopping Can't
by Katta
Summary: Cordelia's not entirely ready for the onwards-and-upwards yet. Fortunately, her celestial guide is more than willing to comply to her wishes.


He saw her in Angel's office, but stepped back outside, gave her the time to finish her goodbyes. Even when she left, he didn't make himself known immediately, just watched her slowly rid herself of her body – visibility first, then tangibility. He wondered how it felt to do it gradually like that, rather than being ripped away from it all at once. To him, after years of death, even this in-between state was like chains around his arms and legs, weighing him down, but he supposed it was very different for her.

For a moment he thought that the Powers were wrong, and that he wouldn't be needed, since she was doing so well. But then she stopped, halfway, with an expression on her ghostly face that seemed – which was impossible, this was Cordelia Chase after all, and yet – seemed anxious.

Seeing her like that was a most pitiful thing, and so he got over his own nerves and asked, "Ready for the big trip, then, Princess?"

She froze in place, and he tried to play it cool, leaning against the balustrade of the staircase as her eyes sought him out. Would she be happy to see him? For her, it had been four years, and she'd had time to get possessed by a demon and fall in love with Angel and do all sorts of things he didn't even know about.

Their eyes met, and she remained frozen, her expression as impossible to read as a statue's – for a second, before she rushed down, feet floating through the steps, and threw her arms around him. Even in their current state, he felt the strength of that hug.

"Now, that's what I call a welcome!" he said, laughing in her ear.

She drew back. "I always swore that if by some miracle I ever saw you again, I'd slap your face and give you a piece of my mind."

That made sense. After all, it was not as though he'd asked her permission to saddle her with the visions. He was quite grateful to be a ghost as he told her, with a tentative smile, "You could do that. Get it out of your system, like."

She pursed her lips for a moment before shaking her head. "No. You're off the hook."

Grinning was a mistake, but he couldn't help himself. Her eyes immediately narrowed.

"Wait – would you even feel it if I _did_ slap you?"

Ah, that was the thing with Cordelia. Though she might at times come off as ditzy, she was never dim.

"Not unless I wanted to," he admitted.

"Oh!" She raised her hand as if to hit him anyway, then caught on to the futility of the gesture and took it down."You jerk! I can't believe you! First you die like that, and then when I finally see you again, you pull my leg!"

"It's the _dying_ bit you have a problem with?"

"What else would it be?"

"The visions?"

"Oh, them, Yeah, them too."

He deliberately blurred his corporeality further, to prevent her from seeing him grinning. Even so, she seemed to catch on somehow, because her scowl first deepened and then disappeared, replaced by a grin of her own.

"It is good to see you, though," she said.

"You too. You look gorgeous.

"Well, you look..." She watched him for a second and sighed in mock disappointment. "Horrible. Are those the best clothes afterlife has to offer? Not that I was necessarily expecting Christian Dior, but even white robes would be better than that outfit." Looking down at herself, she added, "Or this outfit. God, I threw it away ages ago!"

"No reason you shouldn't have Christian Dior, if you want," he said, ignoring the insult to his own clothes. "Just as long as it's dead Dior."

"Dead...? Oh, I see." She concentrated, and her clothes shimmered for a second before settling into a tight, button-up jacket and a full skirt that made her look like a more curvaceous Audrey Hepburn.

He gave an appreciative whistle. "Now, that's a look fit for heavens."

She preened in pleasure at her new clothes, but her smile soon died. "Is that where we're going? I mean, now?"

Only then did he realize that she was stalling as badly as he was, though for different reasons.

"It's nothing to be afraid of," he said gently, and then, "But of course we don't have to leave right away. We could have a look around, haunt the place. I've always wanted to stroll down a broad staircase."

She laughed and started strolling, with long, pompous strides that would have made Gloria Swanson proud. He fell in tow, imitating her style.

"I'm not sure I want to haunt Wolfram & Hart, though," she said after a few paces. "How about a shopping mall?"

"I would love to haunt a shopping mall with you."

She stopped short, and her face took on an expression he'd never seen on her before, yet recognized from other girls, girls too tactful to turn him down. That was a strange thought, Cordelia being unwilling to turn him down. Turning him down had been her favourite game, once upon a time.

But of course, once upon a time, things had been different, and the years may not have changed him, but they had certainly changed the rest of the world, Cordelia included. The farewell to Angel he'd overseen was proof enough of that.

"Don't worry," he said. "I get it."

"I _am_ happy to see you," she said. "And we can totally haunt a shopping mall. But there's Angel to consider, and anyway, we're dead."

"Yeah, I know. Let's start over. Hello, Cordy, I'm going to be your celestial guide for today. What do you say we haunt a shopping mall before we go on our way?"

"Thank you, Doyle, I would love that."

They reached the front door, which apparently didn't count them as people, because it refused to open. Doyle shrugged and pulled Cordelia through, but he was a tad peeved when it opened a moment later for a taloned creature from beyond that scuttered away after hissing in their direction.

"Oh, that's nice! We don't count, but he does? Shitty bigoted door."

Once again, Cordelia stopped short. If Doyle had been fully corporeal, he would have bumped into her. As it was, he sank partially into her before regaining his footing.

She was staring at a small group of people who stood waiting by the entrance, and her face held an expression almost as wistful as the one he had witnessed in Angel's office.

"Ah. Your friends."

"Maybe I should... I did say goodbye to Angel. And they don't seem to have heard about that. I'm not gonna give anything away, obviously, but..."

"Are you asking my _permission_ to say goodbye?"

Her jaw set. "Of course not. Don't be an idiot." She changed her clothes back and slipped into visibility, discreetly enough that her friends didn't notice. When she walked up to them, they reacted as if she'd just come out the door.

"Hey, there you are!" the woman said with a broad smile. Fred, her name was, he reminded himself, making him momentarily miss the _other_ lass with a name more masculine than his own. And the other two were Wesley and Gunn; though his knowledge of what exactly they meant to Cordelia was hazy to say the least.

"Yeah," Cordelia told Fred, returning the smile. "Listen, I'm gonna go off on my own for a while. Do a little window shopping. Hope you don't mind."

Wesley narrowed his eyes and looked over Cordelia's shoulder at – Doyle got a jolt of surprised as he realized that the man was looking at _him_. Apparently, when Cordelia had changed her physical status he had changed right along with her.

"Uh, hello," Doyle said, trying to look friendly and harmless and not at all like someone who might whisk their friend away to a strange afterlife – or indeed something worse. "Nice to meet all of you."

"Likewise – and who might you be?" Gunn asked, his voice mellow even though his expression was guarded.

Cordelia hooked her arm into Doyle's. "This is my old friend Frank," she said, hesitating only a split second before the name. "We haven't met in a really long time, so we have some catching up to do."

"Can't he just come with us?" Fred asked. "We haven't seen you in a long time either."

Doyle hesitated. He would quite like to get to know Cordelia's friends, but of course the longer they dallied, the greater the risk that the truth would come out. Even the planned mall-haunting was, strictly speaking, against orders, though he thought the Powers could give her a break after what had been done to her lately.

Cordelia too seemed to draw the conclusion that it wasn't worth the risk. "I know," she said and gave Fred a hug. Drawing back again, she nodded towards Doyle. "But this is an emergency. Look at his shirt! We have to figure how to solve that crisis. I'll see you real soon, okay? Tell Angel not to worry. I'm in... well, poorly dressed and probably drunken hands, but I'll soon take care of that."

"I'm not drunk," Doule pointed out.

"Aw, no access to alcohol?"

"Not really, no."

She shook her head and hugged the men goodbye as well. "See you soon?"

Wesley held on to her arms for a second. "Are you _sure_ you're all right?"

"Very."

As she walked away into the crowd, she faded again, and Doyle followed in suit.

"'Soon' is a pretty relative term, isn't it?" she said.

"It'll be sooner for you than it is for them."

"That's what I thought. It's the only thing that stopped me from downright bawling, I can tell you. Or is it? Can I bawl? I must do, all those weeping ladies and whatnot. And if I thought I'd never see them again... Ugh!" She jerked up her chin. "None of that. To the mall and beyond!"

"Your wish is my command," he agreed. "Although – Frank?"

"It's a good name."

"It is, though not one I've ever gone by."

"Well, you should. And it's not like I could call you Doyle. Stop whining."

"I'm not whining."

"Whiner. God, this afterlife isn't shaping up very well."

"Really? I think it's brilliant."

She gave him a long, thoughtful look, bit down on the smile about to spread over her face, and said, "Hm!"

And off she went towards the mall, jaunty steps, head held high, once again wearing the classic Dior suit, the most beautiful disembodied spirit he had ever seen.

THE END


End file.
